Read Online A Pint of Murder by Charlotte MacLeod - Free Book Online

arms.
    “Say, this is great of you, Janet! I was just wondering what in hell I could feed those kids.”
    “I suppose they’re still abed.”
    “No, Gilly’s up. She’s worried about one of the pups. We’ve called the vet and I sure hope he comes soon. Poor little thing, you can’t help feeling sorry for it. Bobby’s still buzzing away. I peeked in on him before I came down. He looked so cute with that skinny little face, and the other dog tucked in beside him as if it were a teddy bear.” Marion smiled, a real, warm, bonafide smile. “Last night he put his arms around my neck and kissed me good night. ‘Aunt Marion,’ he calls me.”
    She flushed at this show of softness, and began to unpack the basket. “I bought a pound of coffee yesterday when I was downtown. I’ll make some if you’ll show me how to work the percolator.”
    Could this woman possibly be as helpless as she acted? “How do you ever manage when you’re by yourself?” Janet couldn’t resist asking.
    “Use instant. I do know how to boil water, though you mightn’t think so. That’s what I meant to get yesterday, but they were fresh out.”
    Janet, feeling silly about doing such a thing with a woman old enough to be her mother, was demonstrating where to put the coffee and where to put the water when the front doorbell rang.
    “That’ll be the vet,” said Marion. “Would you mind letting him in, Janet? I can’t go to the door looking like this.”
    She had a foolproof argument there. Janet stepped into the front hallway. Silhouetted against the stained-glass panels that framed the door, she saw not one but two forms. From the height and lack of breadth, one of them had to be Jason Bain. The other was nearly as tall, and a good deal broader, especially through the chest and shoulders. Janet scuttled back to the kitchen.
    “Marion, that’s old Bain and I think he’s got his son with him. Run upstairs and put your clothes on, quick!”
    The bell jangled furiously. “I’d better go let him in before he breaks the door down. Hurry, Marion, I’m not getting stuck with that pair.”
    Actually she had nothing in particular against Elmer. About all she could remember of him was that he’d been in Gilly’s class at school and was supposed to be a wonderful goalie, only his father would never let him take the time off to play. She didn’t think she’d ever spoken two words to him in her life. Nor to old Bain, either, if it came to that. She eased the door open a crack. “Good morning.”
    The elder Bain wasted no time on pleasantries. “Where’s Miz Emery?”
    “Upstairs getting dressed.”
    He took no more notice of Janet, but brushed past her and plunked himself down on the green plush chesterfield with the carved rosewood back. Elmer trailed after his father, looking desperately embarrassed and lugging, for some reason, an old-fashioned cowhide suitcase. Not knowing what else to do, Janet sat down in a chair across the room. Elmer remained standing near the door. He shuffled his enormous boots on the once-red Axminster carpet, cleared his throat several times, and finally, to Janet’s amazement, spoke.
    “Gilly here?”
    His voice was husky as though it never got used much, but not rasping like the old man’s. Coming from anybody else it might have sounded rather agreeable. As he was a Bain, Janet felt called upon to resent the question.
    “Yes, she’s here. Why shouldn’t she be?”
    The old man snickered. The son ignored him. “Is she all right? She and Bobby didn’t get hurt in the fire, eh?”
    He sounded as though he honestly cared. Janet began to feel ashamed of herself for being so hostile. “No, they’re not hurt, but they lost just about everything, and now one of the puppies is sick.”
    “Schnitzi’s had her pups, then?”
    “Yes, in my brother’s car on the way up here last night. I guess the excitement was too much for her. Gilly’s waiting for the vet now.”
    “Maybe I could—”
    “Set down,